


Gorgeous

by Im_A_Terrible_Person



Series: Requests :) [8]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet, Blow Jobs, Body Image, Body Worship, Bondage, Bottom Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Bruises, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frostbite, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Implied Stalking, Infatuation, Insecurity, Just the fluffiest thing ever, Light Angst, Light Bondage, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Marking, Multiple Orgasms, Obsession, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Wilbur Soot, Wow, implied hypothermia, this is long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29914581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_A_Terrible_Person/pseuds/Im_A_Terrible_Person
Summary: Wilbur has a new love.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot/Technoblade
Series: Requests :) [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193852
Comments: 5
Kudos: 206





	Gorgeous

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda went overboard with the symbolism. 
> 
> For eeeeee <3
> 
> Absolutely perfect prompt :D

Wilbur was so fucking angry. He was murderous, furious. It seemed as if everything shied away from him, as if the heat of his fury scorched the grass he walked on. He was going to fucking kill someone. His hands were shaking, and he had a horrifying blank expression on his face, the mania in his eyes making him really seem like the villain he’d tried to be.

How? How the FUCK had he failed so thoroughly? He’d had a plan, a simple one. Designed, so perfect, he’d been moments from finally ending it all, from taking L’manburg to be his, only his. They were supposed to die in each other’s arms, blown to passionate smithereens. A love story for the ages. Something people would look back on, cry at the bittersweet story of his life.

Instead, he was still here. Still alive, still breathing, and L’manburg wasn’t. He’d lost her, lost her to that-that… he can’t really describe Technoblade. Wilbur makes an involuntary noise, kicking out at a tree. It doesn’t move, but it releases some of his anger. He sighs, trying to calm down. He just can’t, can’t move past it. Wilbur slides down to the ground, cradling his head in his hands.

Technoblade, Techno… Techno had encouraged him, had given him all the confidence he’d needed to go through with his plan. Sure, he’d left out the whole dying part, but that was just a minor note in this failed symphony. It was a crescendo, something massive and overpowering that would rock the world for years to come. 

Why? Why had he done that, done that to Wilbur? He’d appeared at the last moment, just as Wilbur pressed the button. There was a split second between the press of the button and when the TNT went off. He’d timed it carefully, had left tens of craters around the neighbouring landscape. Techno had somehow got him out of there, wrapping himself around him as he flew them both out of there. Stupid trident.

He’d left Wilbur as soon as they’d landed, fleeing without so much as a word, an apology. The earth had trembled beneath his feet, the distant sound of his creation, his masterpiece, the love of his life being destroyed. He wasn’t there to witness it, wasn’t there to burn down to the ground in her wreckage. Wilbur had cried, had screamed, had hunted Techno like a madman. 

Technoblade was no fool. He’d hidden himself well, had stolen away in the chaos of L’manburg’s destruction. His base lay abandoned, emptied of its treasures. Wilbur wouldn’t give up. He’d searched high and low, had travelled far in his search for Techno. Along the way, his anger had lessened. 

L’manburg had never loved him back. Had always been so eager to fall into the arms of anybody, anybody but him. Schlatt had taken her without so much as a farewell, hadn’t even missed him. She’d withered under his rule, never asked Wilbur for help, never left Schlatt like she’d left him. Been perfectly content to die without him. Why should he miss her? She hadn’t loved him, not like he loved her. He’d been faithful, had always fought for her, for her freedom.

She’d always cheated, her eyes had always wandered. She’d been all too happy to fall, laying down for Dream and Schlatt like he didn’t even exist. L’manburg had never appreciated his sacrifice, his devotion, his worship. Wilbur didn’t need her, he decided, he could find someone else worthy of his love.

Which led him to where he was now. He’d tried to find someone else, Niki, Quackity, even Phil. Nobody had appreciated it, spitting it back in his face like it didn’t matter, like he wasn’t offering them his very soul, his heart. Niki had been too sweet, not really wanting his advances but too polite to turn him away. Quackity’s still caught up in Schlatt’s death, not ready yet to care for anybody. Phil had let him down nicely, bluntly telling him he was far too old, Wilbur would have to search again in just a few years.

Wilbur felt lost. He'd lost L’manburg, and there was nobody else around willing to take his affection. He felt angry, trying to find something to fill the hole in his chest, which set him on Techno’s trail again. It had been months, Techno had never really left his mind. He’d always been there, just out of reach. Wilbur’d swear he saw Techno sometimes, a flash of pink hair and red eyes, a hint of netherite. Never there when he looked again.

For now, he was following a clue. Phil had been suspicious lately, leaving for days at a time. He always came back, smelling of winter and smoke. Wilbur followed him this time, but Phil was a lot smarter than he looked. He’d disappeared a few hours in, leaving Wil stranded in an icy forest with no idea how to get home. His anger was the only thing keeping him going.

“Wil? What’re you doing here?” Wilbur stood up as fast as he could. It had to be a delusion, an auditory hallucination. It couldn’t be…

And yet, it was. Techno stood over him, looking down at him with his trademark bored expression. Wilbur had known him long enough to read the small things, the twitch of his lips, the way his eyes shifted. He’d spent hour after hour daydreaming about Technoblade, reliving every memory. He felt as if he could draw him with his eyes closed, how often he spent thinking about him. Techno was perfect, beneath his mask. 

Wilbur had only seen him without it twice, but he has vivid memories of both occasions. He’d startled him, showing up at 4 in the morning with a hypothesis about how to set off the TNT in a chain reaction, not missing even one. Techno had answered the door, voice rough with sleep. Techno had only been wearing a t-shirt and shorts, no regal robes or crowns. He’d looked gorgeous. Wilbur remembered it like it happened yesterday, spent hours sketching Techno’s face into anything he’d found.

He looked so soft. His features weren’t very sharp, no actual edge to his face. Techno was a tall man, coming up to Wilbur’s chin. He was well-built, spent hours slaughtering mobs just to feel the blood on his hands, to find temporary solace from the voices in his head. But his face wasn’t even remotely intimidating. He had soft, sleepy eyes that looked more like cherries than blood without the mask. 

He had a strong jaw, a harsh line. Made sense why he’d want only a half mask, to give the impression that he wasn’t a coward, not like Dream. He just didn’t enjoy showing his face. An impressive ruse, if Wilbur thought about it. Dream had a complicated relationship with his mask, a very public one. If anyone even dared to get him to take it off, they found them bruised and bleeding, not daring to even speak of what Dream had done to them.

Techno? He always gave off the impression that he didn’t really care, that it wasn’t a big deal. Nobody really noticed that he never took it off around them, he always acted so nonchalant about it. Wilbur had. Had asked Techno about it, one day when they were just waiting, waiting for the day. Wilbur wanted to see it again.

“Why don’t you take it off?” He’d asked, not even looking at Techno. He could feel the energy in the room change, and odd tension that had had him bristling. 

“What? Do you want me to?” Techno had said, not really answering the question. Wilbur glanced over at him. He looked almost too calm, limbs relaxed in such a way as to project the utmost laziness, uncaring. Wilbur saw through it almost immediately.

“Why don’t you want to?” He didn’t take the bait. He could’ve laughed it off, made some half-assed gay joke that they’d laugh at but wouldn’t find funny. But that wasn’t why he’d asked. 

“Who says I don’t want to?” Ah, he’d trapped him. If he didn’t take it off, he’d be proving that he’s just as insecure as Dream, if he did he lost anyway because he’d revealed his face. Techno only hesitated for a second before reaching back, undoing the buckles that keep it on with practiced ease.

He’d pulled it off, looked over at Wilbur with an eyebrow raised. He’d won, he knew. Techno maintained his perceived superiority over Dream. But at what cost? Wilbur had soaked him in, taking in every detail of his face. He hadn’t known if he’d ever get to see it again.

Techno wasn’t a model. He didn’t have perfect cheekbones, a perfect nose. He had flaws. His nose was crooked, he had scars upon scars, his mouth was thin and mean. Every flaw made him more beautiful in Wil’s eyes. Every little imperfection made him unique. He could say with complete confidence that there was no one quite like Techno. Not Dream. Not Schlatt. Not Fundy. Not even Wilbur himself could compare to Techno, could hope to live up to his accomplishments. 

God, it made Wilbur melt. Thinking about his face, his body, his mind, so sharp that it left Wilbur’s spinning as he tried to keep up. He could never hope to be half as good as Techno at fighting, enchanting. Wilbur was good at people, but even in that Techno had a leg up on him. He had this awkwardness around him, the type that made people want to protect him. 

“Wilbur? Do you have hypothermia or something?” There’s a hand on his face, and suddenly Techno’s so close, right there. Wilbur can smell him. He drinks him in, hands coming up to clutch at Techno’s robes. They’re new, a deep brown made from animals skins. They look so warm. Techno opens his mouth to ask another question.

He drags Techno down on top of him, wraps his arms around him. He holds him close, knowing that Techno could leave him here to freeze if he wanted to. Techno tenses, but doesn’t pull back. He hugs Wilbur back, movements slow and tentative. He can’t imagine Techno’s hugged anyone other than Phil over these past few months.

“I missed you.” He murmurs, face buried in Techno’s neck. Techno tries to pull back, but Wilbur just clutched him tighter. He can’t lose him again. Wilbur finally has him, he’s here, real, he won’t let Techno go again. Techno pats him on the back, stiff and awkward. He smiles because, God, has he missed Techno. Missed his voice, his face, his presence. Missed his smile, his little laugh, the way he spoke.

“Wil, you gotta let me go. We’ll die out here.” Techno mumbles, trying to pull back. Wilbur reluctantly allows him to stand, but he doesn’t let him go. He keeps his grip on Techno’s hand, vice-like, like he’s afraid he’ll lose him. Techno doesn’t protest, just helps Wilbur stand up. He hadn’t realised just how cold he was, how he shook, teeth chattering.

He stumbles, legs asleep. Techno catches him, helps him regain his balance. Then he leads him somewhere. Hopefully to wherever he was staying. Wilbur was freezing, anger not enough to heat him from the inside out now that he has Techno. Wilbur can’t keep his eyes off of Techno. He looks so different. 

Techno still had his usual braid, but it’s a lot less controlled, a lot messier and loose. Hairs are flying every which way, and his crown is still there, but it’s crooked. Like he’d thrown it on in a hurry. Had Phil told him he was out here? Had he come to get him, to bring him to his sanctuary? Wilbur hoped so.

They walk mostly in silence, Techno occasionally warning him about unexpected terrain, but beyond that he doesn’t speak. Doesn’t ask how he’s been, doesn’t make small talk. Techno had never been one for unnecessary conversation, never really cared for pleasantries. He didn’t need to. People flocked to him either way. 

There’s a house in the distance. Smoke curling up into the sky, and it looks so… it looks like a home. Techno’s base had always been more for function than for comfort, a cot that barely took up any space, and that was about it. He had dedicated everything else to his weapons, his armour, his magic. Barely took care of himself.

Now that he thinks about it, Techno looks a lot healthier. There’s a rosiness to his cheeks, a glitter in his eyes. He had noticed Techno looked a little sallow, but he hadn’t thought that it was a byproduct of unhealthy living. Wilbur scolds himself for not noticing. How is he supposed to love Techno if he can’t even tell when he’s sick?

“Take your shoes off.” Techno said, squatting down to take his own off. Wilbur toes his off, placing them next to Techno’s. There’s no sign of Phil’s shoes. Is he not here?

“Where’s Phil?” Wilbur asked, watching Techno straighten back up. He shrugs off his robes, folding them over his arm. He’s wearing a t-shirt, a plain grey one, and matching sweats. Techno doesn’t answer right away, walks deeper into the house. Techno had clearly made it. He could almost see him chopping down the trees in the area and mining the stone, spending hours figuring out how to make it stand.

“He left. Told me he lost you in the woods, said I should probably help you.” He shrugs, as if he hadn’t just saved Wilbur’s life. Wilbur grinned. Finally. Techno helped him. It means a lot, he realises, that Techno hadn’t just left him there to die. It was his own fault that he’d tried to follow Phil, he’d have been perfectly justified in leaving him out there to face the consequences.

“Thank you.” Wilbur steps closer. “Why?” He wants to know. What had made Techno go out of his way to save him? Did he love Wilbur, too? The thought makes his heart beat faster. Techno stops in what appears to be the kitchen, dumps his robes on the crude table in the centre. He grabs the edge, bowing his head. Wilbur remained in the doorway, waiting for his answer.

“I don’t know.” From most people, that would be a copout. From Techno, it was honest. He didn’t know what made him save Wilbur, otherwise he’d tell him. Maybe he loves Wilbur, maybe he just doesn’t know it. Wilbur steps closer, he’s sure Techno could feel his breath on the back of his neck. He doesn’t move away.

Wilbur places a tentative kiss on the back of his neck. He hopes he’s right. God, please let him be right about this. Techno shivers, but doesn’t move. It’s more of an invitation than any words would’ve been, Techno not moving. Wilbur kisses his neck again, more confidence in it this time. 

“What do you want?” Techno breathes, tilts his head. He’s baring his neck for Wilbur. The thought makes him inhale sharply. He nips lightly at the skin there, sucks marks into it. Techno doesn’t move, relaxes back into Wilbur with a sigh. 

“I want you.” The words are simple, but he knows that Techno gets what he’s saying. He wants Techno the same way he’d wanted L’manburg, just more. He never wanted to fuck L’manburg, their relationship had always been chaste. This wasn’t, the soft gasps Techno lets out as he tentatively rocked his hips back against Wilbur. 

He’s hard, he realises. He pauses for a second. Does… does Techno want Wil to fuck him? It seemed so. He stops Techno’s movements, pulls back. He turns Techno around so he could look into his eyes, see if he really wanted this. Techno meets his gaze, eyes almost challenging him. God, he’s beautiful. Wilbur wants to kiss him, but he forces himself to wait. His hands settle on Techno’s hips, not really grabbing but not not grabbing either. 

“What do you want from me, Techno? You want me to fuck you? Want me to love you?” He already does, but Techno doesn’t need to know that. Techno ponders it, just for a moment. 

“I want you to love me.” From anyone else, those words would have been cheesy. He’s not sure they’re not, really, but it means so much more to him than that. 

He tugs Techno closer to them, brushes their hips together, finally kisses him. There are no fireworks, instead it feels like… like he just tosses a log into a fire, that shower of sparks before the real flame builds, consumes it. Techno’s not a very good kisser, Wilbur doubts he’s done this before. With who? Phil had raised Techno, kept away from the world and trained him in the art of battle. 

It’s still perfect. In fact, Techno’s inexperience just makes him feel important. He’s the one Techno trusts enough to do this with. He’s the one who gets to worship the blood god like this, gets to kiss him until he’s moaning, hips rolling against Wilbur’s languidly. Wilbur licks into his mouth. Techno grunts, surprised, but lets him. The sound makes Wilbur grin, having to pull back for a moment. 

He rests his forehead against Techno’s, just breathing in his air, stares into his eyes. Techno’s face is so red, his eyes are hazy. His pupils are dilated, and Wilbur just can’t resist kissing him again, coaxing Techno’s tongue into rubbing against him. Techno wrapped his arms around Wilbur’s waist, leaning into it more this time. 

Wilbur eases him back onto the table. It creaks under his weight, but doesn’t give way. Wil places his hands on Techno’s thighs, spreading them so he could stand between them. He feels intoxicated, drunk on Techno. His affections finally returned. It feels like a dream come true, to have Techno pressed against him. He shoves his hand between his legs, tugs the band of his sweatpants down. Techno yelps into his mouth.

“You okay with this?” Wilbur mutters, barely even pulling away before diving back in. After a moment, he pulls back again so Techno could reply. His blood is roaring in his ears, so loud he almost misses Techno’s answer.

“Yeah.” 

He snorts, kissing him again just because he can. Techno loves him, he does. He loves him enough to let Wilbur wrap a hand around his cock, let him stroke him so gentle that he doesn’t think he’s really even getting anything out of it. Techno doesn’t protest, just whimpers into his mouth and bucks his hips up. 

“Where’s your bed?” He will not fuck Technoblade on a table. He wants to take him apart, completely ruin him for anybody but Wilbur, until his legs are shaking and he can’t think anything but Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur. Techno slides off the table, leads Wilbur to an adjoining room. It’s nothing fancy. There are a few chests, probably full of clothes, and an enormous bed. 

It’s covered in animal pelts, bears and wolves. It makes Wilbur shiver. This man has killed, killed people a lot stronger than Wilbur. Wilbur was still alive, and he was the one who Techno let worship him like this, let see him like this. He’s not trying to be stoic, not trying to be a mindless mercenary who only thirsts for blood.

He pushes Techno back onto the bed, soft. Wilbur doesn’t want to hurt Techno. He’d never want to hurt Techno. But if he’s going to worship him, he’ll have to restrain him. He can’t have him interfering, he wants to be the only one that makes Techno feel this good. Wilbur strips him, peppering kisses over every new stretch of skin. God, he’s gorgeous.

Wilbur arranges Techno so he’s framed by the pelts, so he’s perfectly cushioned, so comfortable and so warm. He wants this to feel like heaven to him. If this is his first time, Wilbur’s pretty sure it is, he’s going to make it as extravagantly exhilarating as possible. He leaves Techno, just for a moment, to grab some rope from the chest. Techno always has leads on him; if the urge to ever start a farm struck him, he’d always be prepared.

He’s careful when he binds Techno’s hands above his head, tries to make it as loose as possible. They wouldn’t hold if Techno didn’t want them to, but Wilbur wants to anyway. It’d be easier if he didn’t forbid him from touching himself, if he just bound him. He kissed Techno again, gently bites his lips. Techno’s already better at this, picking it up so fast. 

He sat back, staring down at Techno with adoring eyes. Techno’s so beautiful, all flushed and panting like this. He’s hard, cock laying on his stomach, spilling pre-cum into his bellybutton. Wilbur shuffles down the bed, kissing down his chest. He looks at Techno through his lashes as he kisses his lower stomach, right above his cock. Techno whines, trying to nudge his hips up into Wilbur’s kisses. 

Wilbur doesn’t tease him. He doesn’t want Techno to feel unfulfilled. Wilbur’s head feels dizzy with desire. He feels possessive, hungry. He’s the one Techno lets see him like this. The one he trusts like this. He kisses the tip of Techno’s cock, tongue flicking out. He doesn’t taste great, but it’s Techno, so it’s perfect anyway. Wilbur takes the head into his mouth, sucks gently. 

He looks up at Techno, drinking in his every reaction. Fuck. Wilbur swallows, taking him in a little deeper. He bobs his head, brings a hand up to stroke what he can’t take. He swirls his tongue around his tip, occasionally dipping his tongue into Techno’s slit. Wilbur teases at Techno’s perineum, just to watch him squirm. He already looks overwhelmed. 

“Wilbur!” Techno cried. 

Techno jerked above him like lightning had struck him. Salty cum flooded Wilbur’s mouth. He pulled back. It’s kind of sweet. That he’d overwhelmed him like that. Techno’s panting, mouth open. His head rolls back, so he’s looking at the ceiling. Wilbur crawls back up over him, kisses him. Shares Techno’s cum between them.

Techno clearly wasn’t a fan of the taste. But he doesn’t pull back. Aww, so good for him. He’s not done yet. Techno’s not there yet, not brainless and mushy. Wilbur wants to see Techno lose it. He doesn’t touch Techno’s cock yet, letting him recover. Instead, he leaves to find something he could use as lube, something that would ease this for Techno. 

He finds an oily substance in one of the chests. It doesn’t smell like anything, and it’s perfectly clear. Wilbur spreads some over his fingers. Yeah, this should work. He returned to Techno, gets back between his legs. Wilbur nudges them so Technos spread wide enough for him to settle between them. 

Wilbur massages the substance over Techno’s hole, waiting for him to relax enough for him to slip a finger again. While he waits, he presses soft kisses against Techno’s thighs. He sucks a hickey or two into them as well. He nips at them, gentle. Techno finally relaxes enough for him to press the first finger in, stroking gently over Techno’s walls. He doesn’t look for his prostate, he’s saving that surprise for later.

He slides a second in beside the first, gently scissoring them. Techno hisses, Wilbur sucks a bruise into his thigh, just a few centimetres away from his cock. He keeps pressing sweet kisses against Techno’s thighs as he thrusts the fingers in and out slowly. It can’t feel good, but Techno doesn’t protest. He’s watching Wilbur, he can feel Techno’s eyes burning holes through his skull. 

-

Techno… isn’t sure how he feels about this. It stings, but something about the burn, the fullness, the way Wilbur looks, pressing soft kisses all over his legs… It’s addicting. He wants more, but he doesn’t really have any experience with this. He’ll let Wilbur take the lead, just this once. 

He already came, but his cock is already half hard again. Wilbur leaves it alone, thankfully. Techno feels so sensitive, he’s sure he’d cry if Wilbur touched him there again. He doesn’t want to do that, though he’s not sure why. Techno knows that Wilbur doesn’t buy his whole ‘tough guy’ shtick, hasn’t for a while. He always looks amused when he tries to pull it on him. It infuriates him, but somehow Wilbur just… makes all that fall away.

In the early months, spending time with Wilbur had aggravated the voices. They roared in his ears, screaming and begging for blood, carnage, horror. Now they’re lethargic, only a faint whisper. It makes him sigh, finally being able to just… relax. Let Wilbur take care of him.

Wilbur pushes a third finger in. Techno gasps, there're tears in his eyes. It hurt, it hurt so badly. Wilbur moved, fingers massaging his walls more intently, searching for-

“Ah, ah, right there, right there, Wilbur, fuck, ah-” Technoblade babbled, pressing his hips down. Fuck, that felt amazing. He almost forgot the pain, overshadowed so heavily by the intense pleasure. His cock is fully hard, weeping all over his already messy stomach. Wilbur pulled his fingers out, wiped them on his pelts. 

He reached for Techno’s… what even was that? He can’t remember; it was probably a gift from someone. Dream? Sam? Skeppy? It doesn’t matter. Techno’s mouth feels dry as he watches Wilbur touch himself, getting himself wet. He’s never seen another man’s cock, always averting his eyes whenever he saw a hint of skin below the waist. It was awkward, maybe, but he just didn’t want to see that.

Until now, anyway. God, Wilbur looks so good. His head drops back as he moans, eyes fluttering closed. Techno gets the feeling that Wil’s putting on a show for him, but he appreciates it. Wilbur’s a thin guy, all long limbs and sinewy muscle. He never seemed to be able to put on much weight, something he seemed resentful of.

Techno’s never had that issue. He’s always put on muscle so easily, put on fat so easily. He can’t count the number of times he’d been not-so-subtly told he needed to lose weight, that he was unhealthily overweight. Techno knew he wasn’t fat. He was strong, a warrior. It only hurt his ego a tiny bit.

But he’s Technoblade, so that tiny blow felt like he’d been steamrolled. Even now, he can’t help but feel huge. He feels so out of place, beneath Wilbur. It’s a stupid thought; Wilbur clearly wanted him. He wouldn’t be here if Wil didn’t. He’d be sleeping alone, in this giant bed, and Wilbur would probably sleep on the ground, swallowed up by as many furs as Techno could find.

Techno tried not to let it show on his face, but Wilbur had always read him so well. He paused his little display, leans forward so he could tower over Techno just that bit more, like he was shielding him from the world. Techno whimpered.

“What’s wrong?” Wilbur murmurs. He stroked a hand down Techno’s side, thumbed over his hip. That didn’t make Techno feel any better. It just brought his insecurities to the front of his mind, showing his flaws to him in sharp relief. Fuck, what was he doing? Wilbur studied him for a moment, it just made the feeling worse. Something clicked in Wilbur’s eyes.

He grabs Techno’s hips, really digs his fingers in. The flesh squeezes between them, making Techno groan. No, no, he can’t just let-let this happen. An irrational fear flooded him, made him feel tense and anxious. Wilbur grabbed his cock again, lined it up with Techno’s hole. When he pushes in, he leans over Techno, brings his lips close to his ear.

“You’re so pretty.” He coos, sliding deeper. It feels so good, stinging pain completely swamped by that sensation of being so filled, of Wilbur’s cock scraping over his walls.

“Absolutely gorgeous.” He pulled out, just leaving the tip in, before pushing back in, so slow. Techno keened, hands jerking weakly against the restraints.

“You don’t think you’re pretty?” The words are simpering, as if Wilbur’s offended that Techno thinks he doesn’t have good taste. He snaps his hips forward, brushing against something that has Techno seeing stars. He does it again, again. Fuck, how does something feel that good?

“You’re beautiful, so perfect. You’ve got such pretty eyes.” He leaned up, pressing a kiss to Techno’s forehead. “You’ve got such a marvelous face.” God, does he have to be so overdramatic? Techno doesn’t care, Wilbur kisses him so sweetly. He trails kisses down Techno’s jaw, sucking light bruises into his neck as he fucks him, slow and sweet. Techno feels like he’s burning up.

“God, how could you think you aren’t?” He laved his tongue over Techno’s collarbones. Fuck, he’s looking at him. Techno’s embarrassingly hard, so turned on by just a few compliments. He squeezed his eyes shut, can’t bear to look. This is so humiliating, though he doesn’t know why.

“Techno. Techno, look at me.” Wilbur breathed. He does, squints down at Wilbur. He squeezed his hips again, adjusting his grip so he had more leverage. Wilbur leans back a bit, tugging Techno into his lap. Fuck. His legs are draped around Wilbur’s waist, squishing. He feels his face redden as Wilbur dug his fingertips into the meat of his thighs, massaging gently. Wilbur groaned.

“You’re the most gorgeous human being I’ve ever seen. I love your thighs, they’re so soft. One day, I’ll get you to sit on my face,” A squeeze, a thrust. The thought of sitting on Wil’s face, getting eaten out, makes him burn. Techno wails. Something about the new angle makes it so the head of Wilbur’s cock hits his sweet spot so perfectly. It makes him feel so dizzy.

“You make such pretty faces,” Wilbur bends down to kiss him again. He doesn’t even pull out, just grinds his hips against Techno’s prostate until he cries, tears streaming down his face. Techno can’t believe that Wilbur thinks he could look attractive, face ruddy with tears and mouth hanging open as he moans, whines.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Wilbur fucks into him again, rolling his hips. He fists Technos cock, lazily jerking him off in time with his thrusts. It’s not fast, but there’s a fire blazing in Techno’s stomach, slowly building higher and higher. He’s not sure how long he’ll last, but it feels so good, too good.

“Cum for me, Techno. I want to see it.” Wilbur doesn’t change his rhythm, just puts more force behind his thrusts. Fuck. Techno can feel the fire in his gut getting hotter. He clenches down on Wilbur with a moan, thighs clamping down as he came. Wilbur goes faster, letting go of Techno’s cock so he could go faster, faster. He pressed deep as he came, filled Techno up with his cum with a deep, satisfied groan. 

Wilbur pulled out almost immediately, kissed Techno softly. He gets up, grabbing a piece of fabric from one chest. Thankfully, his cum had only leaked out onto one pelt. He gently cleaned the load off of Techno’s stomach and thighs, where it had dripped out of him. He untied Techno’s hands, caresses the wrists where they’d been rubbed by the robe. There’s no irritation, but it was probably still sore. He tugged a few pelts over Techno, cleaning himself up as fast as possible before sliding in next to him.

He maneuvers Techno over him, presses a chaste kiss to his forehead. Techno feels soft and happy, Wilbur feels so warm. So comfortable. He feels so tired now, Wilbur’s here, Wilbur will take care of him. He nuzzles into Wilbur’s chest, enjoying the feeling of having Wil’s arms around him.

-

Wilbur’s a bit upset. He hadn’t realised that Techno had been so insecure, so ashamed of himself. It was baffling. Techno was pretty, one of the most beautiful people he’s every seen. That Techno doesn’t know, doesn’t see in himself what Wilbur sees, it makes him angry. Though he does have being able to shower compliments and praise on Technoblade, to get him to know that he’s gorgeous.

**Author's Note:**

> This took me 6 hours to write, but I loved every second of it <3
> 
> Also, here's a fun fact, if a bit TMI; I modeled Techno after me in this fic. It's a bit narcissistic, but I just... I couldn't help myself


End file.
